


Andres

by LittleMissLiesmith



Series: The Better The Lives We Lead [3]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Actual Asshole Cousin Diego, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissLiesmith/pseuds/LittleMissLiesmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Andres Mendez became Andres Ramirez, or, Life on the Other Side</p>
            </blockquote>





	Andres

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElZacharie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElZacharie/gifts).



> Another oneshot for the HoM verse, this one for scienceandbotany and featuring their character. It involves less of NVPH than the prompt suggested but I might remedy that in the future. For now, enjoy brotherly bonding!
> 
> Note that I had to change Andres’s name from his “official” name of Andres Sebastien Ramirez to Andres Ramirez Mendez because I had already named him as Andres Ramirez and Carlos as Carlos Mendez when scienceandbotany suggested they be brothers.
> 
> This also happens to be a little less cheerful than “Lauren” was because Andres’s character as a whole is sadder.

Once, when Andres was twelve, his brother got suspended for punching a kid in the face.

When asked, Carlos would just shrug and say “He was asking for it.” But Andres knew the real reason—the day before Carlos punched his lights out, the kid had followed Andres halfway home and then chased him deep into the city. When Andres made it home well past eleven at night, Carlos had coaxed the story out of him, and the next day grabbed the boy by the shirt collar and hit him hard enough to break his nose and dislocate his jaw.

They were _twelve_ at the time.

Andres, for the most part, liked having a brother. He and Carlos were nearly identical despite being ten months apart, and for all that Carlos ragged on him he was still willing to send someone to the hospital on Andres’s behalf.

In turn, Andres was equally protective of Carlos. When he was thirteen and Carlos fourteen and Carlos fell for Cecil Palmer, Andres slipped some interesting mushrooms he was growing into the backpack of the kid who called them slurs in the cafeteria. When the kid was yanked to the office the next day for possession of drugs, Andres smiled, pleased with his little secret.

The two did everything together down to being in the same grade, so when Carlos applied for a science-based merit scholarship to Desert Bluffs Preparatory Academy ( _the_ best science program in the state), so did Andres. Carlos got accepted for his work in chemistry, Andres got accepted for his work in botany.

In December, Carlos blew up some potassium nitrate “black powder” outside the DBPA teacher’s hall. More specifically, he did so below the apartment of one Luciano Silva, who had pretty serious synthesia.

Suddenly Andres was the only one leaving home.

He began to refer to himself by his middle name, and became Andres Ramirez.

-O-

There were bullies at DBPA. There were bullies everywhere. These ones were a lot more subtle than the ones at the public high, but soon Andres had some viciously nasty rumors about himself spreading around campus.

Kevin, who left the public system after middle school, was also at DBPA.

Andres wasn’t sure what had happened, or how quiet little Kevin Palmer had become tall, loud Kevin Free, impossible to look away from, completely unavailable, and even more completely disinterested in Andres or, in fact, anyone but Diego.

Diego. Kevin was a gorgeously tall Greek god in fishnets and tight blazers, dating a business student who wore tailored uniforms and stiletto heels and worked it.

(Andres couldn’t work heels. He had tried one night, stealing a red pair from the first girl’s dorm he found and trying them on. It didn’t look right on him, and the next day Diego was _still_ strutting around with sunlight glinting off his glittery gold hair streak, heels, and nail polish, damn him.)

Andres thought he maybe hated Diego a bit.

-O-

He returned to town on the weekends, leaving his roommate Caesar behind with their concrete box all to himself—probably for the best. Caesar was introverted and polyamorous, at one point committed to about three relationships (the one with three participants was the only one that lasted any amount of time), and had at one time dated Carlos. Carlos still carried a torch.

The bike ride to town was filled with Andres’s thoughts running in circles—how to tell Carlos? Tell Carlos that he didn’t have any friends, not even Caesar (although to be fair, outside of his many boyfriends Caesar didn’t have any _friends_ either per se; he was just ridiculously polite to everyone) and his crush couldn’t stand him (Kevin had said those exact words when he didn’t know Andres was listening).

He couldn’t do that.

-O-

“Andres!” Carlos greeted him enthusiastically when he knocked on their apartment door. “Mamá is in the kitchen and Papá will be home soon.”

Andres smiled as Carlos bear-hugged him. “Is Cecil over?”

“Not tonight. He just got out of rehab and it’s a family night. Papá’s bringing home lobster from that waterfront shop.”

Andres oohed and wriggled out of Carlos’s grasp, heading into the spacy apartment. “Mamá?”

Aria Mendez came out of the kitchen. “Andres! How was your first week of school?” She hugged him, being careful not to tangle the tongs she was holding in his long hair.

“Fine, Mamá,” Andres said. “Everyone is very nice and I’m doing well in science.” He decided it would be best not to mention that he was failing all the others and none of his “very nice” classmates paid attention to him.

“Wonderful!” she said, releasing him. “Your father will be home soon. Carlito, set the table?”

“ _Mamá_ ,” Carlos moaned, “I’m sixteen! Stop calling me Carlito. _Diego_ keeps calling me Carlito.”

“Be nice to your cousin.”

“Tell my cousin to be nice to me and I’ll consider it.”

Andres laughed. “Diego’s in a few of my classes. No one’s realized I’m related to him yet. I don’t think even he knows.”

“But your name—“

“I go by Andres Ramirez. People there don’t speak too kindly about Carlito.”

Aria shot Carlos a glare. “The prank war?”

“The prank war. There are enough people in town with Hispanic heritage and I could have come from elsewhere.” He paused. “Have I met Diego before?”

“When you were little, before you shut yourself up in the greenhouse,” Aria chuckled. “I watched your plants as you wished. Followed all the instructions.”

“Thanks, Mamá.” Andres cast a longing look to the greenhouse set up on the balcony. “May I?”

“Certainly.”  
Andres ran out. The rails and walls were covered in plant shelves, the pots neatly labeled with Latin and common names. He had been given the balcony when he began showing an interest in botany; Carlos had been given the spare closet as a lab when he began chemistry.

He inspected each of the plants, then looked inside. “Carloooos, have you been threatening my plants _again_?”

“Noooo…”

“ _Carlito!_ ” Andres headed inside. “It isn’t good for them!”

Carlos held up a copy of _Good Omens_. “This says it is.”

“That’s _fiction_!”

“I dunno, Sergio looks a lot like Crowley…”

“ _Mr. Vega is not a literal demon_!”

Carlos blinked at him, then shrugged. “But he _could_ be.”

“ _AAARGH! _”__

__-O-_ _

__Despite their different fields of study, Carlos and Andres agreed on one thing: astronomy. So on a Saturday night after lobster dinner, when Aria and their father Jose went to watch a film, Carlos and Andres went up to the roof and set up their telescope._ _

__After an hour of looking through and carefully recording star positions, the two laid back and looked up into the void. “In his…weirder moments,” Carlos finally said, “Cecil’s afraid of space. He’s eighteen, goes clubbing, smokes, drinks—and he’s afraid of space and of mirrors.”_ _

__“How’s he doing?”_ _

__Carlos shrugged. “Well enough. You know he was in rehab. He got out Wednesday and he’s been clean, at least alcohol-wise. Still smoking.”_ _

__“A whole four days.”  
“That’s an accomplishment,” Carlos said. “At least when it comes to Cecil.” He sighed. “He got a job at the radio station and hasn’t skipped class yet. I wish he’d quit the cigarettes but no such luck.” He thought. “We ran into Kevin and Diego and their friends and Cecil got…a little mad.”_ _

__“Kevin’s alright,” Andres tried._ _

__“Kevin’s ungrateful.”  
Andres fell silent._ _

__After a moment, Carlos sighed. “You’re doing okay at school?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“You’re sure?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__Carlos hadn’t, after all, specified what Andres should be sure about._ _

__So it wasn’t technically a lie._ _

**Author's Note:**

> The timing of the stories means that Cecil was just out of rehab the day the gang showed up and he fought with Diego. Yeah, I went there.


End file.
